“Wind through open window”

Piano was keeping its musical performance along with the pianist, having the room vibrate in this strange and out of the world manner. Sun was setting down, sky turning orange.

Heart was fluttering at the sound of “Etude in E minor Op.25 No.5” by Chopin, his fingers flowing on keys producing this magnificent sound.
He was the one and only great artisan of this university. He was more interested in literature, had a habit of smoking a lot, drinking alcohol each evening as he would listen to music that varied in theme, he would throw his books off the shelves if things were not working out, grunting like a bear, then full of frustration he’d be one to walk out into the night, returning whenever he’d feel like. Yet with all these imperfections he was the top writer to date, with endless awards, producing writing that would grab readers heart, make even soul resonate with work.

He was evil this way. And to make me even more pissed off – we played piano so well that through loving it – I hated it.

As he played, going at it on and on, I stood next to the open window, looking at last of the students going out to dorms. While not having any lecturers around I smoked my cigarette, puffing smoke that got pushed back into room by the wind.

– Do you think I can keep on with it long? – Erick spoke as he stopped, to pay same etude from the start.
Looking at his gaze, lost somewhere within the piano keys, his dark hair strands moved ever so slightly by the wind – he himself was piece of art.
– If you on about playing  – that depends on you, if it’s about the writing – you always find new things to pour out, if it’s about life – you should be the judge of your own life. I am not in least suited for this role. – My white hair were getting in my eyes, due to wind toying with it too bad. I puffed last of the smoke, chucked out cigarette bud, then looked at the lost friend of mine.

– She loves you. I’m jealous. – Erick muttered.
– Heh, not that I mind it. I have my own crush, that’s right now playing piano, being in same room with me.
Erick stopped playing, turned to see my expression. His face was so delicate in the red light of the evening sun. Chiseled sculpture, that artists took so many years to create.
I smiled – he was surprised.
– You like me? Like, seriously… – Erick stuttered in his ideas, words.
– Like? No. -, I said and watched him get less tense, – I love you, Erick.

His eyes full of surprise. He never imagined I’d say something like this. We were good friends, we hung out a lot, dated girls, had sex with those, fucked around being silly, but now I was serious, he was too.
– So? What do you think? -, I approached him, standing now stretched hand away from him.


***Short cut out from the continuation of “Parallels”

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